


Palo Alto Kisses

by trishabooms



Category: Lost, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-06
Updated: 2007-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:32:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishabooms/pseuds/trishabooms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Boone at Stanford</p>
            </blockquote>





	Palo Alto Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kissing ficlet request from [](http://ashlesha17.livejournal.com/profile)[**ashlesha17**](http://ashlesha17.livejournal.com/) who wanted Boone/Sam. Rory the OMC is based on Brad Pitt and the name comes from one of his movies.

  
“Are you sure about this?” Rory Devaney asked, as he and Boone Carlyle entered yet another packed and noisy bar - their fourth of the evening. “Why don’t we call it a night, get some coffee? I could take you home, make us some.”

Boone was drunk. Rory had seen him in worse states than this but the kid was well on his way tonight. At least he’d managed to talk him out of going to a club; they’d stuck to bars in Palo Alto, close enough to the Stanford campus for Boone to run into college friends who’d maybe help take his mind off his troubles. Well that had been the theory, four bars in and they still hadn’t run into anyone, which worried him a little, made him wonder if Boone was enjoying himself at college quite as much as he claimed to be.

The bar, which Rory had decided would be their last tonight, was heaving as they made their way through the press of bodies to the bar.

“Get me a beer! And a shot, I want a shot!” Boone shouted over to him as Rory finally attracted the attention of one of the busy bartenders. He ordered them both a beer, unsurprised when Boone accepted his quite happily, the shot forgotten, probably within moments of him asking for it.

“Let’s go find a table,” he urged the younger man.

“It’s easier to get a drink if you stand at the bar.”

“Boone I’ve been up since five, I’ve worked a twelve hour day. I should be home in front of the TV, watching a crappy movie and eating take out.”

“I shouldn’t have called.” Boone was immediately apologetic. Even drunk off his head he was still a nice guy.

“I don’t mind you calling,” Rory wrapped a friendly arm around his shoulders as he led him over towards the booths that lined the walls in the hope of finding a seat. “You just need to cut me some slack man. I’m way older than you, I work long hours and I get cranky when I’m tired, okay?”

“I didn’t know who else to call.” Boone had the kicked puppy look down to perfection.

“I thought you had plenty of friends at college.” Rory guided him into an empty booth.

“I do, it’s just… I can’t talk about this sort of stuff, family stuff. They wouldn’t understand.”

That was probably true enough. In the eyes of most students here it must look like Boone Carlyle had everything, and in a way he did. He was rich, good looking, and personable. What most of the kids were here at Stanford hoping to achieve Boone already had. No one got a free ride in this life though, and Boone was no exception; his home life was the stuff of day time soap operas as he acted as a buffer between his mother and step sister, coping with their endless attempts to manipulate and mind-fuck him in the process.

Rory knew that life had been a lot easier for Boone since coming to Stanford and getting away from the pair of them, but every now and then one of them would decide to mess with the kid’s head, and Rory by virtue of a long standing family friendship was the one Boone came to. Not that he minded, when he stopped trying so damned hard Boone was good company.

Their table was littered with empty glasses and bottles and the neat freak in Rory was grateful when one of the guys behind the bar came out to clear it, even more grateful when he saw who it was. Although he hadn’t been the one to serve him Rory had noticed this guy behind the bar, difficult not to really. He had to be around six feet six. He had long, lean legs and what looked like a nice ass hidden beneath the worn, baggy jeans he was wearing. All the staff here wore the same black T-shirt with the bar’s logo on it, and even though this guy wore it layered over a grey long sleeve it fit well enough across the chest and shoulders for Rory to be pretty certain that the body beneath the clothing was probably pretty impressive too.

“Winchester!” Boone piped up beside him. “I didn’t know you worked here man.”

“Hey Boone.” Winchester had a broad, white toothed smile, sincere enough to reach his eyes.

“This is Sam Winchester,” Boone introduced them, “He… We cross a couple of classes. Sam’s gonna be a hot-shot lawyer. You know Devaney, Sam here might actually be even smarter than you, and man that’s pretty fucking smart, right?”

This Sam’s smile broadened, one eyebrow raising curiously. “Are you drunk dude?”

Boone’s grin was lazy as he held up his thumb and forefinger a little way apart for his friend to see. “Maybe,” he snickered. “A little.”

Rory barked out a laugh. “I think the word you’re looking for here is _wasted_.”

“Working on it.” Boone’s smile faltered for a second or two before he recovered himself, his focus back on his friend. “Sam, meet Dr Rory Devaney, of the Pebble Beach Devaney’s. According to my mother he’s the most charming, handsome, ridiculously well educated, in-bred Irish bastard…”

“Just Rory will do,” he said, offering his hand. “It’s good to meet you Sam. Is it always this busy in here on a week night?” he asked, changing the subject but filing Sabrina Carlyle’s comments away for further pondering later.

Sam took the offered hand, his grip firm and friendly as his dark eyes met Rory’s for the first time. “No, the crowd’s here for the band. They’re gonna be playing their second set in a few minutes. Once they’re done the place will empty.”

“I take it they’re good.”

Sam shrugged. “I guess it depends on how country you like your country,” he said with a lazy grin. “I better get back behind the bar.” He cleared the debris from their table onto the tray he was carrying, then pointed a long, slender finger at Boone. “Stick with beer man huh? Don’t make me cut you off.”

Boone had the most angelic eyes Rory had ever seen on a man and could use them to devastating effect when he wanted to. He stared up at this Sam guy now with the innocent look in full force. “I thought we were friends Winchester.”

“We are Boone, which is _why_ I’ll cut you off.” Sam it seemed was impervious to angelic eyes.

Rory chuckled as he watched him go, threading his way through the tables and back behind the bar.

“ _Him_ I like,” he told Boone.

“Yeah, pretty much everybody likes Sam, he’s a nice guy.”

“Where’s he from?”

Boone frowned and scratched his head. “I don’t remember him ever saying. I don’t know all that much about him, never heard him mention family or anything. Maybe he doesn’t have any, I think someone mentioned that Sam got in on a free ride.”

“That’s pretty impressive if it’s true.”

“He’s really fucking smart, he’s helped me out with my classes a few times.” The angelic eyes focused on Rory. “You like him don’t you?”

“He seems okay.”

Angelic eyes _and_ a knowing smile, Boone could play dirty, drunk or not. “That’s not what I mean and you know it man. Did you think I didn’t notice you checking out his ass?”

Rory raised an eyebrow. “I like ass, it’s not a secret.”

“Never seen Sam with a girl.” A confused frown settled on Boone’s face. “Never seen him with a guy either come to think of it.” The frown deepened. “How come you never check out _my_ ass?”

“Oh come on Boone.” He gave a sigh, they’d had this conversation before.

“No, I’m serious, tell me.”

Rory took a slow pull on his beer, eyes fixed on Boone, wondering why the hell this came up so often.

“I’ve checked out your ass before today.” he pointed out, putting down his beer. “It’s just that I’ve known your ass since it was in diapers, so it feels kind of weird.”

“But I don’t… It’s not like we’re related or anything.”

“Boone are we talking about me checking out your ass or wanting to have sex with you?”

“I thought you liked me.” It was a whine.

“Fuck it Boone, you’re not gay, you like girls, you _date_ girls.”

“Maybe I’m bi?”

“What you are is drunk, and pretty much every time you get drunk we go through some version of this same conversation. You and I are friends Boone. I don’t _just_ like you you’re like family to me. I don’t have to fuck you to like you, I just do, always have, even when you’re a drunken pain in the ass.”

“You think I’m pathetic.”

“If I thought that I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

Boone’s eyes were moist. “Guess not. I’m sorry Rory,” he pushed his beer bottle away from him with his fingertips, “I’m just drunk.”

“Do you want to tell me why?”

He nodded.

“I got this phone call from Shannon, she was crying…”

Rory listened sympathetically as Boone poured out his troubles. It was the usual; Shannon and Sabrina getting into yet another argument, this time about Sabrina’s forthcoming birthday. The two of them had dragged Boone into the middle of their fight, each demanding he take their side, tugging him back and forwards and breaking Boone’s heart in the process. The kid loved them both and they knew it. This was going to keep happening until Boone finally decided he’d had enough. There was nothing Rory could do to help him other than be here for him and listen, which was an easy enough thing to do.

By the time Boone had finished pouring out his heart the band had come out for their second set and Boone had finally slowed his drinking, content to nurse his beer and listen.

Boone’s friend Sam was right about the band, their version of country was a little too plastic for his own taste, not that he was much of a fan, he was more of a jazz and blues man.

As the band finished up Sam came over, three beers held in large, long fingered hands that caught Rory’s attention, sending a pleasant shiver of desire down his spine.

“Mind some company?” he asked them.

“You slacking off Winchester?” Boone grinned.

“Actually my shift finished about thirty minutes ago but it got kinda crazy behind the bar.”

“Take the weight off,” Rory invited, relieving him of one of the beers. He watched as Sam folded his large frame into the seat opposite.

“The band was pretty good.” Boone took the offered beer.

Sam gave him that slow broad grin. “You really _are_ drunk dude!”

“Well yeah I guess I might be.” The seemingly permanent glow to Boone’s cheeks darkened a little. “Families’ll do that to ya.”

Rory saw a pained frown quickly cross Sam’s face, his smile reappeared almost immediately but it had faded a little.

“So,” his dark eyes came up to rest on Rory, “Did I hear Boone right, are you a doctor?”

“I am,” he admitted.

“He’s way _way_ older than he looks,” Boone added, neatly avoiding the swat Rory aimed at his head.

“A doctor of what, medicine?”

Rory nodded.

“Where at?”

“I’m working for Roche Neurosciences right now, but I’ll be back to practising real medicine in just over a year.” It was a year that couldn’t go fast enough for him.

“Working for Roche, that’s pretty impressive.”

He shook his head. “It’s just for the one project.”

“They head hunted him,” Boone butted in. “The man’s a star.”

Rory gave Boone a grin. “Drink your beer.”

“A neur- neurological s-superstar.” Boone giggled.

“On second thoughts man, don’t drink your beer, and let’s change the subject. _Sam_ , why law?”

Sam’s laugh was quiet. His dark eyes remained focused on the beer bottle he was holding as he gave a shrug. “I don’t know exactly, I just… I can sink my teeth into it ya know?”

Rory did, it was pretty much the answer he would have given when he first started studying medicine. “I get that,” he admitted. “Have you thought what kind of law you might want to practise or…”

“Corporate maybe.”

“Corporate yeah, you can bail my ass out of the mire when I take over the family business and run it into the ground.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Rory was sure of that.

“You’re aceing business studies,” Sam confirmed.

“Yeah well I’m Sabrina Carlyle’s son, wouldn’t do to fuck up.”

Rory gave Boone’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You know Boone, you’re your own man, you make your own future. You don’t _have_ to do what’s expected of you.”

“Amen to that.” Sam spoke softly but there was a lot of feeling behind the words.

“That was heartfelt.”

“My dad… He… He had expectations of me, but I couldn’t be the person he wanted me to be. I had to walk away.”

“Was it hard?” Boone asked him.”

“We’d been butting heads for a long time, but walking out… Hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Has he forgiven you?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders at Boone. “I doubt it.”

Rory caught the flash of anguish in Sam’s dark eyes before he looked down, floppy bangs falling down to hide them as he focused his attention on the beer he was holding.

Rory stared from Sam across to an equally miserable looking Boone before coming to a decision.

“You know what? Fuck it! Drink up both of you.”

Boone frowned. “Huh?”

“We’re leaving.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah I should probably be getting back to the campus…”

“Not what I meant Sam, drink your beer.”

“Why? What are we doing?”

“I need a real drink, so do you, and Boone needs… We need a change of location and I came in the car to make it easier to pour his drunken ass home so…”

“I erm… I shouldn’t…” Sam’s brows drew together and he was silent for so long that Rory was pretty sure he was going to say no, but then that killer smile of his came out. “Okay, why not?”

“Are we going back to your place?” Boone asked. “Cos I need food.”

“Yeah you do,” Rory agreed. “We could order in from that Thai place. You okay with Thai food Sam?”

“Never had it.”

“Thai’s good,” Boone assured him. “Spicy.”

As it turned out Sam liked Thai food, and Rory liked watching him suck traces of sauce from the tips of those heart stoppingly long fingers as he sprawled on one of Rory’s leather couches and laughed at some lame joke of Boone’s.

It had turned into a fun night, they’d talked a lot about all kinds of unimportant crap, had slowly worked their way down a bottle of really good single malt scotch, and he and Sam had had their asses handed to them by Boone on the PlayStation. Unsurprisingly though it was Boone who was the first to flag.

“I am wasted.”

Rory raised an amused eyebrow. “Won’t get an argument from me there.”

“And yet I still whupped…”

Sam let out a huff of laughter. “Whupped?”

“Yeah whupped, I whupped both your asses at N-Need for Speed.”

Sam shook his head. “That had to be a fluke.”

“That was skill Winchester! I am that damn g-good. A su… A superb demonstration of hand eye co-coordination.”

“And yet stringing half a dozen words together is beyond you.” Rory grinned, shaking his head. “Go to bed Boone.”

“Not without a kiss.”

“Oh shit!” Rory sighed and slumped back on the couch. “Are we back to this again?”

“Come on Rory, one kiss man. Why won’t you kiss me?”

“We’ve been through this so many times Boone. Kissing you would be like kissing a little brother, I just can’t!”

“Am I missing something here?” Sam looked confused. “Boone you’ve been working your way through every beautiful, long legged blonde _girl_ on campus. Are you gonna tell me they were all beards and that you’re really gay?”

“Maybe I’m bi.”

“Are you?” Sam asked him.

“I don’t know.”

“We go through this whenever he’s drunk. Ask him when he’s sober and it’s a whole other story.”

“So p-prove to my drunk half that I’m straight and kiss me.”

“No, no and _no_!” He fisted at the short spikes of his hair in frustration. “Boone, it wouldn’t matter if you’d dated every long leggy blonde _man_ on your campus. I can’t think about you in that way man, I won’t.”

“You’re not being fair Boone,” Sam told him. “You’re not listening to what Rory’s telling you. It feels wrong for him. You have a sister right, Sharon?”

“Shannon,” Boone corrected.

“So what Rory’s saying is that kissing you it’d feel wrong, like you kissing Shannon.”

Boone’s blush was deep, he broke eye contact with Sam, and just for a moment Rory thought he saw something cross Boone’s face that really shouldn’t have been there, but the next minute Boone was moving across the couch, closer to Sam, a grin on his face that was nothing short of evil.

“That leaves me with just one alternative, you’re it Winchester.”

Rory couldn’t help it, he laughed.

“It?” Sam frowned. “I don’t know what… Wait, are you saying… You want _me_ to kiss you?”

Boone nodded, those amazing, lash fringed eyes of his fully focused on Sam, his smile huge.

“Boone we’re friends.”

“Yeah so who ‘m I gonna ask if it’s not a friend? C’mon Sam!”

Sam flashed questioning eyes to Rory.

“Your call Sam.”

He could have helped him out, ought to have, but there was a part of him that wanted to see Boone and Sam kiss almost as desperately as he wanted to kiss Sam himself.

He watched as Sam bit down on his bottom lip.

“You chicken Winchester?”

“How old are you,” Sam exclaimed, “like _seven_?”

Boone just raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck you! Just do it!”

Boone didn’t wait, he was across the couch, almost in the taller man’s lap before he had a chance to change his mind.

Rory watched Boone hesitate a scant inch away from the kiss, his hands coming to rest lightly on Sam’s shoulders, his breathing becoming heavy, the large, moist, blue green eyes suddenly nervous, and Rory realised that he should stop this, that he should never have let it get this far, this could put the two men’s friendship in jeopardy.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak he saw Sam nod his encouragement to Boone.

They were soft kisses, chaste and gently placed on Sam’s lips, mapping them. Boone’s fingers coming up to rest against the underside of Sam’s chin, against flesh that looked so smooth and soft that Rory ached with the need to touch it himself. Their noses brushed together, Boone’s unremarkable in such a beautiful face, Sam’s broad and aquiline.

It took a moment for Sam to tentatively kiss back, the same soft kisses to Boone’s smaller, almost pouting mouth, and Boone’s eyes flickered closed, the long curling lashes ghosting over Sam’s face as Boone pulled in a deeper breath before tasting Sam’s lips with his tongue, his hands moving into Sam’s hair as his lips parted to taste first Sam’s top and then his bottom lip.

The hitch in Sam’s breathing had Rory’s cock pressing hard against the confinement of his slacks, made him want to squirm in his seat to relieve the mounting pressure.

And then it was over, Sam pressing an open-mouthed kiss onto Boone’s lips before cupping his face in those big hands and gently moving him away.

Boone looked uncertain, nervous, but Sam just grinned.

“You are _so_ wasted.”

Boone laughed, taking the offered out and pulling away. “You’re right, I need sleep man.” He looked over at Rory. “I wanna sleep in the room at the back, can I?”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I could stop you. And just remember, you throw up you clean it up.”

“M’not gonna throw up.” He rose carefully to his feet. “I want a smoothie for breakfast, that one you do with...”

“I was thinking more on the lines of runny eggs and salty bacon…”

“Fuck you I’m _nu_ -not gonna th-throw up,” he said, making his way slowly towards the hall.”

Sam laughed. “Night Boone.”

Boone nodded. “Night Sam.”

“Will he be okay?” Sam asked Rory after he’d gone. “He was looking kind of green around the gills.”

“I’ll check on him before I turn in. Are you okay?”

“Okay as in am I going to barf, or about kissing Boone?”

“Both I guess.”

“I’m fine, and the kiss won’t bother me unless it bothers Boone.”

“There’s a good chance he won’t even remember. It’s a drunk thing with Boone. I don’t know why he does it, if he’s subconsciously looking for something or…” He trailed off, not wanting to share too much about Boone’s private life with Sam. “He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“I guessed. Why did he want the room at the back?”

“It opens onto the decking and looks out over the bay. Boone had this thing when he was a kid about Robinson Crusoe; he always played these games where he was cast away on a desert island. I’m pretty sure he’s still kinda stuck on the idea.”

“Rather him than me.”

“What you don’t like the idea of a desert island?”

“It’s camping man,” Sam shuddered. “I hate camping.”

Rory laughed. “I think I might play hooky tomorrow, let Roche manage without me, but I’ll run the two of you back to Palo Alto. What time do you need to be back on campus?”

Sam checked his watch. “You know it’s no trouble man I could get a cab, you don’t have to…”

“Hey, I dragged you out here, plied you with booze. I let Boone kiss you for fuck’s sake; the least I can do is offer you a bed for the night and run you back to Stanford in the morning.”

“Actually I don’t have to be back on campus ‘till after one. As for Boone, _I_ let him kiss me.”

“Why?”

“Because it shut him up, and because I was kinda curious, like Boone.”

“Curious about..?”

“How it would feel,” Sam admitted. “Whether I’d like it.”

“And did you?”

Sam shrugged. “It was okay. I think maybe it’s something I need to think about, and if I try it again I need to be sober.”

Rory smiled at him impressed by the honesty and common sense. He mustered up a little of his own as he put his upstairs brain back in control for maybe the fist time since meeting Sam.

“Yeah you do,” he agreed, getting to his feet. “Come on Sam, I’ll show you where you can crash. If you poke around in your bathroom I’m pretty sure I’ve got some spare toothbrushes. Just give me a shout if you need anything.”

The early riser in Rory had him awake and out of bed far earlier than wanted to be, but he knew that once he was awake he wouldn’t get back to sleep. He had the makings of a hangover, but after phoning Roche and pleading an upset stomach he swallowed a couple of Advil, washing them down with a bottle of water, and took a long hot shower. It left him feeling pretty much okay.

He was making breakfast when Sam padded barefoot into the kitchen, hair still damp from his own shower.

“You okay this morning?” Rory asked him. He didn’t look any the worse for wear.

“Just a headache. I literally got everything else out of my system last night,” he admitted with an embarrassed smile.

“That was you? I heard but I thought it must be Boone.”

“Thought what was me?” Boone joined them looking far healthier than he had any right to.

“Sam was sick last night.”

“Gross.”

“Are _you_ okay this morning?” Sam asked him.

“I need Advil, before my head explodes.”

“I left them out,” Rory pointed. “Drink plenty of water.”

“Yes _mom_. Sam will you be medicating with me this morning?”

Sam laughed. “You get the water, I’ll dole out the Advil.”

“Do you both want breakfast?”

“A smoothie would be…”

“It’s in the fridge Boone. Sam, you up to a cooked breakfast, pastries or both?”

“Maybe just pastries.”

“Ready in just a minute, grab a stool.”

Breakfast was chatty, and Rory was relieved to see that Boone and Sam didn’t seem to be self conscious about the night before. About half way through Boone got a call on his cell.

“Hey erm…” Boone frowned deeply. “Kimberley. No I didn’t forget your _name_ , how could I?” He rolled his eyes at Sam and Rory. “I’m kinda hung over. No, I think I’m gonna cut classes. You are? Wait a minute…” Boone muted the phone. “Sam you up for a trip to Raging Waters? Kimberley’s going with some friends; Zack and Rebecca, that tall blonde, what’s her name? Jennifer Moore?”

“Jessica,” Sam told him.

“That’s it! A few others too. You want to come?”

Sam frowned, disappointment clear on his face. “I can’t man, I have to see Fielding at one thirty about my paper.”

“Shit.” He turned his attention back to the phone. “What? No, I’m with Sam Winchester. Yeah I invited him. No he can’t, he _can’t_! Wait!” He handed the phone to Sam.

“Hey Kim. I’d love to, honestly, but I have to see Fielding at one thirty. No I can’t get out of it, I wish I could. Yeah, with Boone.” Sam nodded. “Next time I promise. You have fun!” He gave the phone back to Boone.

“Yeah, sounds good. Can you pick me up I’m at a friends place and I need to change…”

Boone left not long after breakfast, driven off by a smiling, leggy blonde in a bright red sports car.

“Do you spend a lot of time with Boone?” Rory asked Sam.

“Not really, not socially anyway, but we’re friends with a lot of the same people. Zach Warren’s a good friend, and Boone’s dated his sister Rebecca.”

“Let me guess, a leggy blonde?”

Sam laughed. “Yes she is.”

Rory took Sam back to Stanford in plenty of time for him to change and make his appointment.

“Thanks,” Sam hit him with that heart stopping smile of his. “I enjoyed last night. You gonna come in the bar some time, let me buy you a drink, pay you back for the food and the Scotch?”

“You don’t owe me a thing Sam, I had a good time, and you more than paid me back with the Boone thing. I might just come in for that drink though. When do you work?”

“Pretty much every weekend if I can, the money’s good.”

“I’ll be in some time,” he promised. “It’s been good to meet you Sam.”

“You too,” Sam told him, getting out of the car. “Catch you later man.”

“Bye Sam.”

Rory watched Sam walk away. He was pretty certain that one of these weekends he’d be calling into the bar where he worked. If Sam Winchester decided he wanted to try that kiss then Rory wanted to be around.

 **The End.**


End file.
